Chic Peas

It was all coming back to me, the wig, the chocolate cake, the whip, the moustache, the glowing nipples.

I know, too much information. But the last time I set foot in the Kazbar was on my hen night, most of which was a blurred memory, until now.

And I was ashamed – not by my hen night, which still goes down in history as one of the legendary nights of all time right down to the break-dancing stripper at The Zodiac, and for that I’m proud. No, I was ashamed that I hadn’t been back since, because I’d forgotten how fabulous the Kazbar is.

It’s fun and different and inviting and exotic and more importantly authentic.

Because anywhere serving Moroccan tapas can go one of two ways – the cheap, tacky, rip-off, Disney version, or the real deal (well, as close as you’ll get to it 1,600 miles from Marrakech).

For those of you who haven’t been, you enter the Kazbar via a thick wooden door on Dawson Street opposite Cocos in Cowley Road, and venture into a foreign world. Washed in a dusty yellow colour, the wooden bar offers fresh mint mojitos and cosy window seats where you can sit and drink or wait for a table. And the restaurant, which winds around the bar is deceptively big, and busy.

You can’t book, so we were lucky to secure a booth where you can sit or recline among the North African decor and cushions.

Perched among the families and students, swigging Mahou beer and perusing the menu, it’s a good place to be. We were relishing the evening already.

Our waitress suggested choosing four dishes each, which sounds greedy, but at about £3 a dish is still easy on the wallet. We acquiesced, and the food was so memorable, my mouth is watering just writing about it.

Anyway, back to Marrakech. Some of the dishes we ordered were so good we reordered them, sometimes three times.

My own personal Achilles heel on the calorie front were the papatas con chorizo, (pot-atoes, slow-roasted with chorizo, onion and parsley - £3.35). They had to eventually take the last little bowl away from me, and force me to eat something else, so addicted was I to the crisp, greasy, oozing, spicy titbits. Other highlights were the Ibikha (braised butternut squash, chickpeas and harissa) Ropa Vieja (diced beef, with red peppers, chick peas and aubergine) Costillas Iberias (Dehesa black hoof pork ribs) and the Albondigas (spiced beef and pork meatballs in a sherry and paprika sauce), all washed down with some fabulous Spanish red.

The only downside was the Manchego con Membrillo cheese which was rather old, and not up to the same standard as the other dishes, and the fact that three of the dishes we ordered weren’t available, having sold out.

But overall, this is a wonderful way to eat, and so far removed from the sit-up-and-beg style of us Brits. So instead of consuming your own body-weight in one hit, you can pick and nibble away, chat, drink, recline, until slowly the ambience and the tempo at the Kazbar take over and you relax into it and go with the flow. A plate of baklava, and we felt we were part of the Arabian Nights, the tiny cubes of filo pastries, dripping with honey and pistachio nuts, effortlessly folded into our mouths.

So yes, I’d agree with The Observer, the Kazbar is one of the best tapas bars in Britain, not just because of the food, but because the whole experience is so alluring and captivating, to the point where as we left I expected a camel to be waiting outside to take me home. And all this without a pair of pink, fluffy wings or an L-plate in sight.

* The Kazbar is at 25-27 Cowley Road, Oxford.

Call 01865 202920.